Busy With What, Though?
by Envious Writer
Summary: He struggled. "Look... I don't know who you are, but you can't just break into Gotham expecting to get whatever you like!" "Oh... You know me... Batsy..." Note: It starts out slow but gets REALLY GOOD. I OWN NOZING!
1. We Meet At Last, Eh?

A/N: This is a play on the scene from the beginning of TDK, when Gordon and Ramirez are on top of the station, talking about Batsy (behind his back; how rude.) I've always thought, "Busy with WHAT, though?!"

So I felt the urge, whilst watching the movie for the twenty-third time to write this little scene that they conveniently left out of the movie, explaining Batsy's lateness to the dealing with the mob and his not-too-surprising absence with Gordon.

Whatev's; I do not own. If I DID, the Joker would be gay… or my lover... or gay and my best friend. And Bruce would totally be like "ZOHMYGOD I AM TEH BATMAN!" And Harvey and Crane would be biffles with Mr. J and they would play Apples to Apples and do 'fun' drugs. _However! _As quite obviously none of this is true, honestly one can easily assume I do not own. So!

ONWARD TO THE TALE!!

"Why wouldn't he come?" asked Ramirez, eyes confused as the steam from her coffee danced in the wind above her head. Gordon smiled at her wisely and sipped his own coffee.

"Hopefully," he said, "because he's busy."

Twenty minutes earlier, in a crusty motel room a few blocks from the supposed location of a drug dealing – and I say supposed because the information came from a consistently dishonest source – a newly awakened Bruce Wayne lay in thought. Wrapped in the best sheets the motel had, Bruce had been enjoying a deep sleep, the kind that customarily followed a large quantity of violent, angry sex, when the alarm next to the bed had shrieked rudely, alerting Bruce that the drug dealing was due to start in an hour.

Bruce was pondering (not thinking, pondering, because pondering is deeper) his current predicament. It was indeed one unlike any other Bruce – or even Batman – had ever seen. After a long moment, Bruce remembered he had somewhere to be and he didn't have time for the type of careful pondering he felt the situation required.

Tenderly, Bruce slid from under the sleeping form of his newest sexual conquest, so as to allow the other man to sleep. Yes, man. That was the reason the two were in a seedy motel off the road, rather than, say, Bruce's extravagant pent house. Or at least, that was ONE reason for it, anyway.

Bruce watched, cautiously, as the man rolled over, eyes shuddering as he fought to stay asleep. With a sigh, the almost naked man pulled the pillow to his chest and dozed back off. Bruce sighed and eased himself silently from the crumbled sheets, making sure not to shake the bed. Like a shadow, he crept around the room, picking up the many pieces of armor that were scattered about.

Latching each plate of Kevlar together, Bruce slipped easily into his role of the dark vigilante, Batman. Finally, he picked up his cowl and glanced back over at the sleeping man. The whole arrangement hadn't really been planned as it was. It all came as a sort of surprise to Bruce.

A few hours ago, the night had been like any other. Bruce had headed out directly after the sun began to sink behind the wavering horizon. He was a little early, but he was thinking he could get a few minor crimes out of the way before the evening began. Bruce was expecting something big, a drug deal, for later that night and maybe, just maybe, the infamous new guy would show up.

Sweeping through the shadows of the lowering sun, Bruce – in costume as Batman – searched for anything out of place. About three minutes in, Batman noticed a convenient store, barely noticeable, if not for the oddly parked black car. Through the window of the building, Batman saw what appeared to be a masked man holding up the two owners and Bruce grinned.

"Let the parties begin," Batman muttered.

Stealthily, Batman slid out of the shadows and up to building. Arming himself with a batarang and his 'angry for justice' face, he kicked in the door, charging into the store. Once inside however, he froze, realizing what was really happening. Turning heel, he made to run, but it was too late. He was already caught, the net below him twisting around his feet and pulling him up off the ground. The material weaved into the net ropes were thick and he couldn't move, his arms locked to his sides, batarang falling to the ground.

Eyes slitted with anger, Batman stop struggling and looked onward in slight confusion, to the two men that had looked like victims. As he watched, the two men pulled on the ropes that held the net to the ceiling and turned to leave. There was a gunshot and the two men feel to the floor. Batman growled and struggled to see the shooter. There was a wild cackle and the sound of approaching footsteps. Out of the shadows stepped a man holding a gun and chuckling.

"Well, well, well," drolled a gravelly voice from the strange man, "This _is _a pleasant surp**rise**, eh? Here I am, trying to catch this supposed **freak** that works too hard trying to save this _doomed _city and instead I catch you! Wait..."

The man cackled again. Bruce was panicking, but he hid it well under his Batman persona. He growled again and twitched, attempting to break the net.

"At-ta-ta-ta-tah. We can't have you **getting away**, now, can we?" the other man said, voice deep and teasing. There was a weird clunking noise and the man held up a gun. Bruce yelped, Batman persona slipping away ever so slightly. The man paused and tilted his head to the side, curiously. His body still hidden in shadow, his expression was virtually invisible, but Bruce could almost _feel _him smiling. Bruce began to speak, voice strangled but still masked.

"Look... I don't know who you are, but you can't just break into Gotham expecting to get whatever you like!" Batman called, his eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the villain in the shadow.

"Oh... You know me..." the man stepped forward, "Batsy..."

Batman twitched. He recognized, now, that voice. He groaned as he saw the body rise from the corner. The vivid suit of violet and green draped over a lithe body, the white skin the covered the man's face and body, the dark circles around the demonic eyes and the mouth... the lips that were covered in deep red painted and cut from cheek to cheek, forming a mock smile across the crazed face; The Joker had returned.

"Hey, there, puddin'..." The Joker cackled, stepping still nearer to Batman, who snarled and squirmed.

"Stay away from me, you FREAK," Bruce called from behind the mask, Batman slipping away inside of him. The Joker cocked his head to the side and twirled the gun around his finger.

"See... that's not Batman's voice... Just who is it that hides behind that funny little mask?" he sneered and moved across the room, until he was close enough to press his nose against Bruce's, "You don't mind if I check, do you? Of **course **you don't."

He slipped his hand into the net and twirled his finger around the tip of the ear.

"You _don't _mind... do you?" he asked before gripping the ear and yanking the mask, up and off of Bruce's face.

Bruce glared, lips raised in a snarl, but he didn't make a sound. The Joker gasped, partly in mocking and partly in true surprise. He circled the net, staring at the unmasked hero in a new light.

"My god... Batsy, you're... well. You know who you are... but... damn..." The Joker broke off, circling Bruce and muttering, "...Bruce Wayne... beautiful... goddamn... sexy beast... hmm..."

Bruce watched the pacing man, slightly confused but assured that the Joker no longer planned to hurt him. He sighed and shook his hair out of his face.

"So, yes, I'm Batman. What do you plan to do?" he asked, still following the Joker with his eyes, "Tell everyone in Gotham and have me locked up?"

"Now _there's _a good idea... but no... I think..." The Joker stopped so they were standing face to face and leaned in toward him, "I'm just gonna do **what** I _want_... and **take **what I want..."

"Don't you dare-" Bruce started to exclaim, assuming he meant from the city. He froze, eyes wide and shocked, as the Joker reached through the net and grabbed his cheeks, pulling their faces close, leaving merely an inch between their lips. The Joker grinned wickedly.

"Try and stop me, huh?" he said before smashing his lips against Bruce's, kissing him animalistically.

The feeling of grease paint and saliva against his lips made Bruce queasy at first, but as he (dare he say it) got used to it, he found himself being absorbed in the kiss. Slowly, he started to move against the Joker, rubbing their lips together and creating as much friction as possible. The Joker moaned slightly and slid his tongue out to dart across Bruce's lips. Bruce sighed, letting the other man's tongue in, allowing him to explore and taste. He wrapped his tongue experimentally around The Joker's and whimpered. The Joker tasted like blood and something fruity with a trace of alcohol. There was a flavor of rage and lust and something faintly crazy. Bruce loved it.

The Joker was tasting Bruce in return and loving it. Bruce Wayne tasted the way the Joker had always dreamed Batman would, something dark and angry and proud and PURE. But, mixed in with all this, was something lighter, a hint of freedom and pleasure and riches and something so beautiful and amazing that the Joker moaned, melting against the net.

After that, everything was a blur. Bruce had flashes of images - the Joker cutting him down, the two of them stumbling out the shop door, shadowy alleyways and the fire escape next to the motel, and a feeling so pleasurable and hot and satisfying that it made shivers explode along Bruce's spine.

===============  
TBC...

End Note: OMG This turned out so much better than I thought it would be... What do YOU think? Reviews (or comments if you're reading this on DA) are appreciated! Cookies for those awesomes!!


	2. Stay With Me

The story continues!! YAY! All of you that commented and replied last time – THANK YOU SO MUCH!! And Schmellington, here's the MOAR I promised!! :D

A/N I – AGAIN – OWN NOZING! I apologize profusely for any and ALL spelling and grammar mistakes. I not so smrt, yeh? XD Oh my god! Thank you all for reviews! INTERNET COOKIES!!! *hehehe* AnyHOO! Continue to read AND REVIEW!! ONWARD!

Bruce came to from his trance, back in the hotel room. Shaking the blur from his vision, he glanced back over to the dozing Joker. He looked almost… **cute**, although if he said that, the Joker would no doubt laugh endlessly at him – or gut him. The maniac _did _look cute laying there, all insanity leaving him in sleep, bottled away in the dark recesses of his mind. His hair was still tangled from the amazing sex Bruce and he had shared, his make-up mostly smudged off onto the pillow and sheets. The blankets looped loosely around his feminine figure, covering his pale almost bleached white skin, and alongside it, the deep scratch and bite marks left lustily by Bruce during the fits of climax.

Bruce sat down next to the sleeping man and almost tenderly brushed the hair from his face and smoothed a line of eyeliner. The Joker stirred and opened one dark bloodshot eye. With a tired yawn, he shut it and rolled onto his back, hands wrapping around longingly onto the gloved hand Bruce had used to wake him. Bruce noticed that the way his green-dyed hair fanned around his head was almost angelic, had it not been for the demonic make-up and scars. Bruce shook himself mentally. Not allowed to think like _that_ anymore.

"Look, Joker…" Bruce tried to start, voice clinging to his throat. Joker sighed and simply waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah. _You're _the hero, _I'm _the villain, blah de blah **blah**," the Joker sneered and sat up. Bruce looked away quickly, trying not to allow his eyes to wander down the pale, scarred plains of muscled flesh that flowed temptingly toward the sheets pooling at the Joker's hips. The Joker stretched and yawned animatedly.

"What's the time?" he asked.

"Half past eight…" Bruce said, checking the clock, "And time for me to leave."

The Joker frowned, thoughtfully, and suddenly his hands were gripping Bruce's wrists. He flipped them over, pinning a very startled Bruce to the already stained sheets and straddling his armored hips. He looked adoringly down at the maskless Batman and pressed their chests together, leaving a bare inch between their faces. His warm breath splashed over Bruce's cheek, lips brushing his ear as he spoke into Bruce's ear.

"But… Batsy _Bruce_… I don't **want **you to go… I want you to stay here… with **me**…" he whispered and squirmed suggestively against his hips, "Won't you **stay**…?"

Bruce fought back the shudders that attacked his body and swallowed noticeably. He fought down the desperate urge to flip them over, shove the Joker into the mattress and gratefully stay for the night. He cleared his throat and effortlessly lifted the smaller man from his hips. He slipped from under him and set him down on the vacant bed. His hands dropped from the other man like he was on fire and he stepped back to a considerably safe distance.

"I- I can't, Joker," Bruce growled, backing up, "You're _evil_, I'm... not. It won't work."

The Joker pouted up at him as he searched desperately for a good reason that he shouldn't stay and play around some more. The Joker just sighed and slumped forward, letting his hair fall around his face. Attempting innocence, he looked up at Bruce from under his eyelashes, lower lip quivering.

"But Bruce..." he said, not a trace of malice or dishonesty in his voice, "I need you to stay..."

This time, Bruce couldn't suppress the shudders, the sound of the Joker's voice so sweet and weak and needy cracking his perfect self-control. He stood strong and refused to cave, looking away from the Joker, to the window. The Joker had seen the shudders, however, and pounced on the weakness. With another sigh, he flopped back onto the bed, allowing the sheets to shift and slide, ever so slightly, off his hips. Bruce frowned, wondering if it was safe for him to leave yet. He stepped back cautiously, eyes still locked obediently on the Joker's face.

The Joker grinned secretly up to the ceiling, and twirled a finger in the sheets, sighing every minute or so. He glanced at Bruce and his eyes glittered. He slowly teased his tongue along his lick, looking Bruce up and down. He whimpered ever so quietly and trailed his gaze back up to Bruce's eyes. He groaned lightly and bit his lip, arching his back of the bed. Bruce tried to look away, but he couldn't help following the sheets with his mind as they slid, whispering, to the very brink, leaving only the Joker's member hidden. Bruce licked his own lips, tempted.

The Joker moaned, slyly glancing over to where Bruce stood. He bit his lip again and arched further of the bed. The sheets remained clinging desperately to the Joker's hips as he murmured the now awkwardly shifting dark figure's name, just loud enough for Bruce to hear it. The Joker's body twitched, this time involuntarily and his cock grew slightly more prominent, hardening under the covers. He whimpered and fell back to the mattress, eyes clouded and dark. He sat up, tongue sliding across his lips and licking habitually at his scars.

Bruce grit his teeth, trying desperately not to cave, fighting this tempting crazed man. The Joker shut his eyes and inhaled. Slowly, he stood, sheet falling to the ground, leaving him completely uncovered. He stepped toward Bruce, eyes piercing and fierce. He stopped a foot from the armored man, eyes never leaving Bruce's face. Bruce squirmed from the intensity of the stare and felt all the blood in his body shoot to his cock.

"Bruce…" the Joker rasped, raising a hand and stroking Bruce's cheek, "Just… please?"

The quiet pleading look and use of the word 'please' struck Bruce powerfully and he caved. He eyed the clock over the Joker's shoulder. He had half an hour till he had to be gone. But… he looked back at the Joker, who still stood waiting, staring at him sadly and twisting his hands in front of him. Bruce groaned and grabbed the Joker's arm, pulling their bodies together roughly.

The Joker gasped, the breath temporarily leaving him, knocked out by Bruce's armor. He breathed in heavily, giggled and pressed closer to Bruce.

"Damn, Brucey… Feels like you need this, too, huh?"

Bruce growled and thrust against the Joker's bare hips, making the smaller man hiss and writhe. He smirked and leaned closer, pressing their noses together.

"Yes… I do, indeed…" he growled and slammed his lips passionately against the Joker's

TBC…

A/N: Damn! It's sooo much shorter than the last one. Oh WELL!! Think it's amazing! DO ME A FAVOR AND COOOOOMMEEEEENT!!! (comment) THANKS!!


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